


Who's Got Mail

by WhoInWhoville



Series: I love AUs [8]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluffy McFluff, Movie AU, and fluffy, and there is very little interaction, battling businesses, bookshop au, even though she is his girlfriend for about a minute of reading time, hate in real life love online, loss of business, reinette is not a major character, this is super sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5785759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoInWhoville/pseuds/WhoInWhoville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler owns a little children's book shop. John Wolfe owns a massive chain of mega bookstores. In real life, they despise each other, but in the cyber world where they know each other as ShopGirl and Doctor10, they just might be in love. "You've Got Mail" AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't even remember when I wrote this -- five years ago? Maybe 2012?
> 
> Of all of the works that I took down and deleted, this is the one I missed the most. I have so much fondness for this story. Not because it is so well written (*see grammar note below. Ha ha ha), but because it was my first writing experience when the words simply flowed. I wrote it in 36 hours, if I remember correctly. 
> 
> I'm so thankful that someone saved it, and was able to email it to me. 
> 
> * I may have written this so easily because I didn't let something like pesky grammar get in the way. I've fixed some things, but haven't changed anything significant. (I did add ONE paragraph. Just one. It establishes timeline a little bit better towards the end.)

Rose Tyler was a shop girl. More specifically, Rose Tyler owned a lovely, little, book shop. It was called The Shop Around the Corner.

Rose’s grandparents had started the business — the small book shop in Notting Hill — before the neighbourhood was posh and trendy. 

Next, her mother and father took their turn owning the shop. Dad kept the accounts, and Mum worked the counter.

When Rose was but an infant, her father was struck by an out-of-control vehicle. He died, leaving a widow, a baby girl, and the book shop. 

But instead of selling the shop as Rose’s mother had been advised, she decided to run it herself. She changed it from a general purpose book shop into one which specialised in children's books. Rose’s mother transformed it into someplace not only special, but perhaps even a bit magical. 

People came from far and wide to the little shop. There was story time. Authors came to do readings. And then, there were the window displays. And oh, such a delight they were. 

Rose grew up spending most of her free time in the shop.

But then one horrible day, she lost her beloved mother, and Rose Tyler was left all alone. She had to leave school without getting her A levels even though she was bright and destined for big things. She obtained a rather good-for-nothing boyfriend — a would-be author by the name of Jimmy Stone. He was a bit older, and he charmed Rose. Jimmy showed early promise, and his first novel was published when he was only eighteen. Unfortunately, since then, he’d been in a bit of a slump. “Writer's block,” he was known to say. Three _years_ of writer’s block. 

But Rose didn't have the guts to throw him out. Whenever she threatened to toss him, he would turn on the charm. He would gain her sympathy, reminding her that he was surprisingly well connected within the London literary scene. "My next novel is on my fingertips, I can feel it Rose," he would say.

A wonderful woman kept the business accounts: Sarah Jane Smith. She was the friendliest, kindest, smartest woman that Rose knew, but she was also a bit of a mystery.

Rose's best friend, Mickey Smith, worked at the shop stocking shelves, and sometimes helping behind the counter. 

A bubbly, outgoing, artistic girl, Lynda Moss, was hired to to keep the tradition of their renown window displays alive.

It was a pleasant place to be day in and day out. It was a comfortable same-old, same-old life. Owning the shop was rather like wearing a comfortable old cardigan on a rainy day, or your favourite pair of shoes for a long walk. 

It was Rose's life. She really didn't have anything else. The people who worked there had become her family. The customers were her friends. 

The only bit of excitement in her life, other than her squabbling with Jimmy, was her online friendship with a mysterious man whose online ID was Doctor10. They had never met in person, nor did they plan to.

oOo

"Rose dear, which way did you come into work this morning?" Sarah Jane asked as she walked through the front door.

"Just the same old way I always come. Took my regular bus. Why you asking?” Rose asked, seeing an odd look on her friend's face. "What, Sarah Jane?"

Sarah Jane cringed. ”You know the old Henrik's ruin?"

"Course I do! I saw it blow up, remember?" Rose replied.

Sarah Jane stared at her. 

"Will you just spit it out already?” asked Rose, snorting a laugh.

"Well, there are big fancy signs posted around the block announcing that a brand new Wolfe's Books. In fact it will be their brand new flagship store. Seems they’re breaking ground this week. It will be opening late winter next year.” Sarah Jane almost whispered, and then looked around the small shop. 

“And I suppose this is the part where you tell me this is the final nail in the coffin.” Rose Tyler leaned over onto the ancient wooden counter and propped her chin in her hands with a sigh.

"It'll be okay, Rose. You'll see. We've always been able to pull through before, and we'll do it again. We'll adapt! Maybe we can open an espresso bar for the grown ups!” Sarah Jane enthused. “They can sit and chat while the children look at books! Or we could start selling more books for young adults. Vampires are awfully popular these days.” 

“Don’t lie, please,” Rose said. 

Sarah Jane sighed. “I have projected we can stay afloat for five, six more months at the most. That’s taking into account the increased Christmas and holiday receipts in November and December.”

"I am _not_ going to bow to pressure and sell books written for adults which are marketed to children! Mum would roll in her grave!" Rose said steadfastly. She looked at the spooky but not scary Halloween display that Lynda had finished yesterday. "There will be no sparkly vampires in this shop!"

Lynda hurried from the window to the front counter. ”Just this morning I heard John Wolfe, the smug git. He was on the Reinette Radio Show. He had the gall to say that Wolfe's Books is singlehandedly responsible for revitalising reading as a leisure activity. He actually said he had brought back book reading from extinction!”

"No!” Rose exclaimed. “He said that? As if people had ever stopped reading! People in _our_ circles never stopped reading. Maybe the sort of people _he_ associates with have stopped reading," she said proudly.

"You mean soulless blood sucking vampires?" offered Sarah Jane. She wore a pleased, smug look.

"Y'know, I think I saw a vampire last night outside of my flat," Mickey added as he arranged a pyramidal shape of train-themed storybooks on a circular table. The display didn't hold, and the books fell like a house of cards. He started his structure again.

"Mickey, you did _not_ see a vampire. Last week you thought you saw a werewolf. And the week before, you thought you saw an evil robot.” Rose smirked.

"Not a robot, Rose! It was a cyberman!" Mickey said seriously with a nod. "Some poor sod had his brain cut right outta 'is 'ead an' probably never even saw it comin'." He shook his head sadly.

"Right," drawled Rose as she rolled her eyes.

Mickey and Lynda returned to their duties, and then Rose leaned close to Sarah Jane.

"Doctor10 emailed me again last night," said Rose.

"He did? What did he say?" Sarah Jane asked her eyes twinkling.

"He asked for advice about his business. He's afraid he's expanding too quickly." Rose took a bite of her apple.

"Has he ever told you what business he is in?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Nope, and I told him not to. We are committed to keeping our communications completely anonymous," Rose said, nodding her head.

"Be careful, Rose. There are a lot of nutters out there. He could be in prison. Has he asked your for money? He could be married!"

"Or he could be an axe murderer!" added Mickey, interrupting Sarah Jane.

"Or he could be Wills! I'll bet it’s Prince William, and he planning on overthrowing the Queen! Expanding his business is just a euphemism," Lynda said, wide-eyed and breathless.

“Lynda, you win. You’ve figured out who my friend is,” Rose laughed. "I've got an online friendship with Prince William."

The little bell on the entry door sounded merrily. In came a tall, thin man with two children in tow. Sarah Jane nudged Rose with her elbow and inclined her head in his direction. Rose rolled her eyes. Her friends were constantly trying to get Rose to end it with longtime no-good boyfriend, Jimmy-with-the-Roving Eye. “Now isn’t he a good looking man,” whispered Sarah Jane.

“With children. Usually that means someone is married,” chuckled Rose.

“No wedding ring,” Sarah Jane countered.

"Go on, find some things," the man prompted the children. He grinned, and the two children were quickly off exploring the shelves. The dark-haired boy with curly hair found a picture book about space pirates. He dropped down onto the carpet and thumbed through it hungrily, his tongue slightly out of his mouth.

A serious-looking, ginger-haired girl wearing glasses seemed be more methodical. She skimmed her small hand along the raised spines of the volumes in the classics and literature section. Slowly, she pulled one book off of the shelf at a time, as if looking for just the right title.

"Good morning, may I help you find something?" Rose cheerfully asked the man as he approached the counter.

"Naw, I'll just let them pick. They know what they want. Could be a while though. You have a chair for this old man to rest his legs?" he joked.

"Your children are picky, then?" she joked.

"Nope, not mine." He said, shaking his head.

"Not picky?" she said with a laugh.

"Nope, they’re not my children. And yes, they are picky. Well," he drawled, “Ginger is picky. No, not picky. Discerning. And Curly isn’t. He just wants _all_ of them. Books are integral to their lives, always have been. In fact, the love of books goes back generations in my family," he said proudly, pushing his sexy specs up his nose. 

“I like the sound that,” Rose said. She smiled, letting her tongue peek between her teeth. “But if they aren’t your children, whose are they? You their manny?” Rose teased.

“What? Me?” He pointed to himself. “No! I’m not their manny, and who ever came up with that awful word should be banned from England. Banned.”

Rose laughed, and the man’s serious face was transformed as he smiled brightly.

“Actually, I’m babysitting. They belong to my half-sister Donna." The man turned and pointed towards the back of the shop. "That curly-headed ragamuffin is Ian." He then turned his attention towards the juvenile classics section. "And over there is the lovely and brilliant Barbara. I suppose I’m _really_ their half-uncle, but that just sounds silly, so Uncle John it is."

“Well, _Uncle John_ , it seems you come from a family that actually values books! I told you reading never died out as a pastime, Sarah Jane,” Rose called into the back room. She turned back to _Uncle John._ ”You know what my friend up there working on the window displays heard on the radio this morning? On that awful Reinette show?" Rose asked.

John frowned for a moment. ”What?"

"She heard the owner of Wolfe's Books say that his store has saved reading from extinction. Imagine that! Extinction! Like he's the Greek god of books or something." Rose rolled her eyes.

The man smirked a bit. "Well, if you put it that way, I can see-"

"And now he's opening up one of his — his mega-monstrous temples to — to the almighty pound around the corner from me!" Rose was fuming now.

"And this is bad because?" he asked.

"This book shop was opened before the War. It survived The Blitz. My grandparents bought it, and they left it to my parents. But when I was a baby, Dad died, and Mum took it over and made a go of it all on her own until I lost her too. It has been a thriving business for years and years but now — now I'm afraid we're gonna go out of business. We just can't compete with the likes of Wolfe's." Rose shook her head, and sighed.

"But isn't it good that people are reading? That they are starting book clubs and meeting someplace cheerful and safe? And kids are excited about reading? Begging their parents to get them books?" he asked earnestly.

"Yeah, I guess so. Just jealous, I suppose," she said, defeated.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" he said kindly, seeing the sad look in her eyes.

"Hey Uncle John, can we get these?" said the boy carrying a large stack of books. The girl trailed behind. She pressed a single, beautifully bound volume to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"Of course Ian!" he said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Like I was saying to this charming lady, books are our life!"

The boy hefted the pile onto the counter, and then the girl daintily placed hers on the top of the stack.

" _Anne of Green Gables_ ," Rose said with a sigh. “That’s a perfect choice, young lady. Every girl should read this one."

"I've been waiting to read it until I could find a pretty copy, and yours was the prettiest I have found," the young girl replied quietly, as she tucked herself under her uncle's arm.

"And let's see what we have here. Very exciting choices! You have pirates and space aliens, robots, rocket ships, and the solar system. Outstanding!" said Rose to the grinning boy.

"Uncle John loves science fiction stuff, too." Ian looked up at his uncle, and pulled the man's head down to his mouth. "Ask her to lunch, she likes books and she's pretty and nice, not like you know who," he whispered loudly enough for Rose to hear.

"Ian," John said a bit sternly.

Rose blushed, hearing the boy's words while she rang up the sale. "That will be one hundred sixty-two pound fifty, please."

The man pulled notes totally two hundred pounds from his expensive-looking, Italian leather wallet.

"Oh," she said sheepishly. "I don't know that I have that much change. Not many people pay cash anymore."

"Consider it a donation to the health of your business." He grinned, and casually leaned on the counter.

"Oh, I couldn't do that!" protested Rose shaking her head.

"How about you buy me coffee then?" he flirted. "Or better yet, how about dinner?"

Rose's mouth gaped open for a moment, as she actually considered the offer for a minute. "I — I can't. I have—“ She shook her blonde head and bit her lip. "It's complicated."

Sarah Jane rolled her eyes dramatically and flapped her hand at Rose. "It's not that complicated, Rose!" she yelled from the business office doorway.

Rose turned and smirked at her friend.

"Well, if anyone understands complicated, it's me." He pushed his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry to have embarrassed you." He cringed, and then hissed through his teeth.

"Oh, no, that's not it at all! Really. I'm flattered. It's that, well, to be honest, I sort of have a — boyfriend." She blushed.

"More like _sort-of_ a boyfriend!" interjected Lynda loudly from the front of the store. "He's a good-for-nothing lazy waaaaa--“ Lynda looked at the wide-eyed children, and cleared her throat. “He’s a very not-nice person. Doesn't value Rose. Treats her like rubbish. And he's a sponge."

"Preach it Lynda!" Mickey high-fived his friend.

"My friends seem to think it is their business to manage my personal life," said Rose, loudly.

"Well, I don't feel so badly then. I was feeling rather rejected there for a moment. Goodbye then. Maybe I'll see you around the neighbourhood." He hefted the heavy paper shopping bag -- sunny yellow with bubble gum pink polka dots. The bell of the door jingled, and the children skipped out behind their tall, brown-haired uncle.

“Oh, he was a good one, Rose. You lost your chance there,” Mickey chided.

"Shut it, Mickey," Lynda hissed.

No one spoke for about half a minute. But then _Uncle John_ the door bell jingled, and he popped his head through the doorway. "Oh! Didn't know if you noticed, it's almost lunch time. Want to join us for fish and chips?"

Sarah Jane raised her eyebrows and nodded. Mickey put his hands on his hips and stared at Rose. Lynda pointed to the door, and motioned her head.

Rose frowned and chewed on her lip. ”Well, I suppose I am a bit hungry. Oh, what have I got to lose?" she asked out loud.

Sarah Jane smiled. "Nothing, Rose. You have absolutely _nothing_ to lose."

_Exactly!_ Rose grinned broadly as she left the shop, zipping up her hoodie sweatshirt against the crisp mid-October air.

"So your friends back in the shop called you Rose," he observed.

"Meddling friends, more like it. _Uncle John_ ,” she teased. “But yeah, Rose. Rose Tyler.”

“Just John.” He held out his hand to shake.

Rose grinned, and accepted it. “I’m sure you guessed, Just John. I own the Shop Around the Corner, well at least for a few more months." She stopped and looked across the street at the newly set up construction site of Wolfe's Books, sighing. "So what do you do, when you aren't babysitting your half-niece and nephew?" she asked with a grin.

"He owns-"

John slapped his hand over Ian’s mouth.

"I am,” he halted, “the president of a,” he again paused, “company that sells… _things_."

"Things, huh? What sort of things?" she asked her eyebrows raised, teasingly, looking down at Ian.

"Oh, this 'n that. Whatsits and whosits, and I do a bit of jiggery pokery from time to time as well."

Rose's mobile chirped. She pulled it out of her pocket, looked at it, and sighed. "The boyfriend," she said with a bit of a frown before she answered. "Hi Jimmy.” She listened. “Tonight? Awww, do I have to? You know how I hate going to those things. I never know what to say, and all of those posh people.” She sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. I'll see you at seven." She thumbed a button, ending the call.

"Why do you stay with him?" John asked pointedly. "Everyone in your shop seems to think he isn't worth your time. Why stick with him?"

"Not that it's any of your business," she replied half laughing, but serious. “He was there when Mum died, and I guess he sort of payed attention to me. But," she sighed, "to be honest, I really don't know why." She clenched her fists. "I'm supporting _him._ " Her voice grew louder. "He says he's an author. But says he just hasn't found his _muse._ "

"If I were him, I'd find you plenty inspiring." He waggled his eyebrows.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, he rarely even tries to write anymore and he's cheated on me more times than I can say, and-"

"Hold on." He touched her arm and stopped. "Cheated? On you? Then he _is_ a wan— err, a not-nice person. I say dump him. Dump his sorry arse right now. Call him back this very minute, and dump him.”

Rose opened her mouth, but was interrupted. 

"Ooo!" Ian exclaimed. "Uncle John saw the A Word! I'm gonna tell Mum!"

The man scooped up the boy. “Tell you what. I’ll buy you a 99 if you promise not to tell your mum. Deal?”

“Deal,” answered Ian as John swung him back down to the ground.

“Funny, that is just about the same advice that my friend gave me just the other day." Rose looked over at John and smiled.

“Your friend offered to buy you an ice cream if you dumped your boyfriend?” John teased.

Rose laughed. "Course not. He told me to dump his sorry... Bum. But yeah, I do like ice cream." She smiled cheekily.

"Ah, here we are! My favourite fish and chippy in all of London," said John, walking up to the takeaway window.

"Really? Mine too! They still use newspapers. You know, no one uses newspapers anymore. And they just don't taste the same without the newspapers. I was just telling Sarah Jane the very same thing the other day," said Rose.

"Yes! Newspapers! Everyone talks about being green and recycling and all of that, but if the chippies all just got together and used old newspapers, global warming would be halted in a week." John grinned.

The children looked at each other with knowing smiles and waggled their eyebrows, seeing something brewing between the two adults.

The foursome carried their lunch to the small public park across the street and sat on a bench. The children gobbled their food like it was their first meal in a month, and then ran off to the swings. John and Rose ate while they discussed books.

"I'll have you know that physics textbooks are _very_ entertaining, Rose Tyler," John pronounced, pointing a piece of potato at her.

Rose laughed. "I'll take your word on that." 

They quieted and watched the two children swinging.

"Don't give up." John said, quietly.

"Give up?"

"I'd hate to see you give up on your shop," John clarified.

She nodded, and then looked down at her watch. "Speaking of my shop, I have to get back to it." She stood up and offered her hand to shake. "Thank you John. You've been a big help."

"I helped? With what?" he asked with a smile.

"I _am_ going to fight for my shop! I am going to fight like I am fighting for my very life! I hope to see you again John, especially when you make purchases like that last one." She stood and walked a few paces, but then turned over her shoulder and smiled brightly. "Bye!" She hurried off back to her shop.

John watched her with quickly growing fondness as she walked away.

Barbara skipped back from the swings. "I like her. She's nice. Too bad you're her mortal enemy."

oOo

"Rose! Darling! James Stone! My dear boy!" The woman double-kissed their cheeks. 

"Lady Cassandra, you look stunning -- as always." Jimmy lifted the woman's hand, and kissed her knuckles.

The overly dramatic patron of the arts, Lady Cassandra O'Brien, had opened her opulent home to the bookish elite of London. 

When Rose ended up at these things, she may have felt out of her element, but no one would have known it. She was always friendly. She would find an interesting person, and chat in a corner.

On the other hand, Jimmy always seemed to come away invigorated by the eclectic mix of authors, publishers, critics, playwrights, actors, and media people.

"Go on and mingle Jimmy. Maybe you'll find someone who is interested in your non-existent manuscript."

Jimmy side-eyed her.

"I'm going to check out the food." Rose gently pushed Jimmy on the back. He set off to find someone rich, connected, and gullible.

Rose headed for the dining room, where the appetisers were on display. She daintily picked up a single shrimp from the artfully arranged platter and placed it on her plate. A man to her left rudely reached right in front of her, diving for the shrimp platter. Using two shrimp, he used two pink crustaceans to scoop up three cream cheese rosettes. He shoved them in his mouth, and then licked his fingers.

"Excuse me, but that's the garnish," Rose said a bit curtly, "I'll clear out of your way if you'll give me a chance."

"Rose Tyler?" It was John.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised and confused, suddenly feeling rather self conscious in her simple skirt and pink sweater set, in contrast to the couture-dressed ladies around her.

"Lady Cassandra was just appointed to my Board of Directors yesterday," he said with a nod. "And," he tugged his ear, "and I'm here with my girlfriend." He swallowed hard, avoiding Rose's eyes.

"Your girlfriend." Rose nodded once. "Right. Of course. Girlfriend." She tugged on her earring. "I'm here with Jimmy. Of course. He's over there, talking with that telly and radio lady, Reinette Poisson."

"Ah. The man himself." John studied him.

Rose raised one eyebrow.

He made a funny noise in the back of his throat. "Sorta funny, actually -- your boyfriend talking to my girlfriend."

Rose set down her plate and protectively crossed her arms. "He's probably trying charm his way onto her show. Telling her all about his one and only novel that was published when he was eighteen. Glory days." Rose made a frustrated face.

"Rose! John!" Lady Cassandra swept up to the pair. "I was hoping the two of you would meet. You are in the same business after all. Has Rose told you that she owns the sweetest little children's book shop? But I'm afraid it isn't long for this world, and it's a shame because she knows more about children's literature than anyone else in London, John Wolfe." She gasped, eyes wide. "Oh I have just had the most brilliant idea! Capitalise, John, capitalise! Rose's loss can be your gain! A win-win all around. The children's book sector has become such a moneymaker. Go on, talk! Talk! Dig into those deep pockets of yours, John, and find a place at Wolfe's Books for Rose Tyler!" With that, the woman floated away.

Rose's mouth gaped. "You're John Wolfe," she said flatly. "Hmm. Funny. It never crossed your mind to tell me? Oh that's right! You sell _things_!" Rose seethed. "So what _were_ you doing in my shop? Spying on the competition? No, thats not right is it? Because there is no way in hell I'll ever be able to compete with Wolfe's. I know, you were dancing on my grave!"

"What? Dancing on your grave? That's not very nice. I'm a nice person, not a -- grave dancer!" John crossed his arms.

"Well, I'm not feeling very well. I think I'm going to head home. No one here I can relate to anyway. Mostly heartless, rich business owners who don't understand the value of the small, independent shop in the life of a healthy community." Rose sniffed.

"Now that's not fair! My great-grandfather started Wolfe's Books one hundred twenty-five years ago in a shop not so different from yours up in Gallifrey!" He crossed his arms and tipped his head proudly.

"Where's that? Never heard of it!" challenged Rose hotly, leaning forward.

"Well ya' wouldn't have 'cos it's gone now!" He was clearly angry, but his voice had a hint of sadness in it as well. "And you know why I was in your store, huh? Because the kids _begged_ me to take them to your store," he said defensively. "They are always going on and on about those _overdone Willy Wonka candy floss and sweets_ windows of yours and of course they wanted to go in! But what those unsuspecting, innocent, little children didn't know is that they were being lured into your gingerbread house of-"

"Hello my angel!" Reinette swept in and looped her arm through John's. She was impeccably dressed from head to toe in designer clothing, the picture of perfection. "And who is this girl?"

"Reinette, uh, this is Rose Tyler. She owns the shop I told you about earlier today."

"Oh yes! That quaint little book shop with the exquisite window displays."

Rose smiled smugly at John as she spoke to Reinette. "They are exquisite, aren't they?"

"And not a single commercial character to be found! I admire your fidelity to the purity of children's literature, not sullying your shop by bringing in books which have movie or television tie-ins. But isn't it getting harder and harder to sell obscure and honestly, intellectually-challenging, but boring books to today's modern child?" 

"Is this an interview?" Rose asked, tipping her head.

"Of course not, darling."

"Mr. Wolfe here," she nearly choked on his name, "brought his niece and nephew in today and between the two of them they chose eleven non-commercial and classic books, which they seemed more than happy to take off of my hands. If you'll excuse me, I need to be off. I'm not feeling too well."

Rose left the party and sent Jimmy a text message that she had taken a taxi home due to a throbbing headache. Now it was the truth.

oOo

Rose sat on her bed and opened up her laptop to check her email. There were fifteen new messages: an online book club message board announcement (tonight's chat cancelled); Mickey sending her a picture of himself on the UglyMeter (2.5 out of 10, beat that Rose!); four last chance sale on shoes/handbags/dresses/even more shoes ads (delete, delete, delete, delete -- can't afford to buy anything new); bank statement is ready to view (now that's depressing); Wolfe's Books now offering online ordering with same day in-store pickup (even more depressing). 

She scanned the rest of the new emails, looking for something from Doctor10. She couldn't help but smile when the second to last email was from her anonymous friend.

_Hello ShopGirl_

_Today was both brilliant and very, VERY not good. I feel badly about something that I did, or am about to do. Have we become so ruthless as human beings that we don't think of our fellow man (or woman) when it comes to business? If someone steals a watch from a jewellery store that person is charged with theft. But if I, as a businessman, intentionally do something that harms the livelihood of another business owner, it's just business. Am I wrong to feel badly? Or is business different than real life? I want to know what you think about this. It is keeping me awake._

_Doctor10._

Rose read through the post and clicked reply. 

_Funny you should have this question of conscience today of all days. My business is in trouble. I am afraid I'm going to lose it. I own a shop that's been in my family for decades. Four! But now we're barely staying afloat. We can't afford to move or to expand. And I'm not even sure if those things would even help. My shop is a true part of our neighbourhood. It's in an historic building. I know people love our shop, but I'm at a loss as to how to drum up more business. And now I find out that a megasuperduperdiscount store that sells the same thing that I sell is moving in. What should I do?_

Rose hit send. She checked a news website, and then checked her email one more time before bed. She bit her lip, smiling, as she saw it was a reply from Doctor10.

_I think that you need to find an advocate, ShopGirl. Do you know anyone in the media? Perhaps you could convince them to do a story on the significance of small business owners as they pertain to the health of a neighbourhood. Do what you have to do to keep your business alive. People are depending upon you, ShopGirl! You have employees who can feed their families every week because of you. This is war! Take no prisoners! Goodnight."_

oOo

The holidays rolled around and while business had increased during the most wonderful time of the year, it still was looking bleak for The Shop. Apparently Sarah Jane was rather well connected -- much to Rose's surprise -- and she arranged for several media outlets to do stories about The Shop and the decline of business activity within the neighbourhood due to the rise of shopping malls and superstores.

ShopGirl and Doctor10 continued their nightly emails with rare breaks. And if there was a day which one or the other didn't email or reply, they would send a doubly-long email the next.

oOo

It was a particularly cold morning in February and John Wolfe was running on a treadmill at his health club. He was having an endurance contest with his best friend and assistant, Jack Harkness.

"Hey, I know her! Turn that up, would ya?" John hollered while he continued his pace, blowing past the eight mile mark. A sweaty man turned up the volume on one of the many televisions hanging above the row of treadmills.

"You know her? And you haven't introduced me? That's not very nice of you, Doc," teased Jack, barely winded as he hit mile eight himself.

"She may be beautiful, but she's a pill!" John spat out, wiping the sweat from his brow, and then increasing the pace of his treadmill. "She thinks that she has the moral high ground just because she's the cute little independent shop owner, and I'm the big bad book magnate." He exaggerated the tone of his voice appropriately. "See, look at her! Is she crying? She is actually crying on the Beeb morning show!" he whinged.

"Don't be so hard on her Doc, she's probably gonna lose her store and her employees are gonna lose their jobs. She cares about people, it's obvious. Just look at her! She seems like she is a lovely person." Jack increased his speed to match John's. "And she's hot. If I were you, I'd sweep right in, be the big hero, give her a shoulder to cry on, offer her a job and someplace warm and manly to land."

"Yeah, well I'm not you. And she may be hot, but she's still a pill."

oOo

Winter trudged on, Valentine's Day arrived, and Cupid's little arrow clearly missed Rose Tyler's heart. On that most romantic day of hearts and flowers, Rose found out that Jimmy Stone had found someone else to sponge off of.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish!" exclaimed Sarah Jane as she hugged Rose.

"I'm not cryin' 'bout Jimmy, 'm cryin' 'bout the shop!" she sobbed into Sarah Jane's shoulder. "I've never been so happy as I was last night when I slapped that gorgeous face of his! But do you know who he has taken up with?" Rose stepped away and started laughing.

"Who?" asked her friend, as she handed Rose a tissue.

"That cow Reinette Poisson! They've been carryin' on in secret ever since they met at that awful party! You know, the night I found out who John Wolfe really was?"

"Oooo! The tosser!" spat Sarah Jane. "Here's to no more Jimmy Stone." Sarah Jane lifted her elegant china teacup and clinked it with Rose's Greenwich Royal Observatory Planetarium mug.

"Lynda's Valentine's Day display was beautiful," sighed Rose. "Last one she'll ever do for The Shop Around the Corner. I'm happy for her though, getting that posh job at Harrod's, decorating their windows."

"I think Mickey is going to give his notice today Rose," Sarah Jane said sadly. "I overheard him talking with Martha."

"Don't blame him really. Getting engaged on Valentine's. He's all grown up now, and he needs a real job. He's been my best mate since we were kids, but everyone has to leave home in the end. What kind of job do you suppose he's gotten? He's so hush-hush about it," asked Rose under her breath.

"I think he's going to be a secret agent!" said Sarah Jane, conspiratorially.

Rose rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Yeah, right."

"No, seriously! I do! I saw him get into this fancy black SUV last week. It was the day he had his interview. It had official British government plates."

"Blimey," was all Rose could say.

"How goes it with Doctor10?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Every night, there he is in my inbox. His email is right there waiting for me when I get home. Seems he's the only reliable thing in my life right now, and I don't even know who he really is. Funny, that. We like the same books, the same foods, the same movies, and I don't even know know his real name."

"Well, I'm going to head home Rose. You know, why don't you come with me? I'm making chicken piccata and asparagus risotto. Seems silly that we have worked together all of this time, and never once have you been to my home."

"All right." Rose smiled kindly. "Thanks."

Over dinner, Sarah Jane admitted that she hadn't drawn a salary for herself for over five months. "I'm filthy rich," she said simply.

"Why do you work for me then? At a children's book shop?" Rose asked before she took a sip of white wine.

"Lonely. I travelled during much of my young adulthood with the most wonderful man. There was no romance, well at least not on his part, but I loved him with my whole heart. He was quite a bit older, you see, but he showed me things you wouldn't believe existed. And then one day, out of the blue, it was done. My traveling days were over. He had to return home, was forced to stop traveling. He had responsibilities, and I couldn't be a part of his life anymore." Sarah Jane looked off in memory.

"He wasn't married was he?" asked Rose.

"Oh no, nothing like that. He was _important._ He had a duty to uphold."

Rose gasped. "Was he a royal?"

"Something like that," she admitted, with a small smile. "He gave me this house, and left me with a small fortune, too. I suppose he loved me, in his own way." She smiled gratefully. "And it was enough for me. He was worth it. The life was worth it. Rose, do you have a plan for _after?"_

"No," she admitted, looking down at her plate.

"The end isn't here yet, but when, not if, the time does come that you have to close, don't give up on life just because the shop is gone. I could have given up after he left me with what I thought was nothing, but I didn't! And look what I have! He left me rich in so many ways, and not just financially. You have your memories of your family, your friends. And think of all of those happy children." Sarah Jane patted Rose's hand. "And one more thing. Go down fighting. I've arranged for some of my television friends to show up at your boycott rally tomorrow at Wolfe's grand opening."

"Did you make your sign?" asked Rose with a small smile.

"I did!"

Rose hugged Sarah Jane. She drove Rose home in her little green car, and Rose walked up the long stairwell into her lonely little flat. Rose dropped her weary self onto her sofa and opened her laptop to check her email. A chime message box appeared in the middle of the screen.

_Doctor10: Are you there?_

Rose thought for a moment. Should she respond? She had never real-time messaged with a stranger. Email seemed different somehow. Like meeting for lunch versus be picked up at the door by a date.

But she felt like she _knew_ Doctor10. They'd been corresponding for months now. She'd pondered many times how funny it was in this modern age to have found someone to whom she felt so close, but had never met face to face. And to think it had all started when they had met on a virtual book club message board discussing H. G. Wells' _The Time Machine._ What harm could possibly come of it? It wasn't any different than emailing, right? Just faster. 

She typed her reply, and then hovered over "enter" for a moment. She closed her eyes and tapped the key.

_ShopGirl: I'm here._

_Doctor10: Thought I'd take a chance that you were still up. Just read the email you sent last night. I'm so sorry that it has come to this. Is there no way your business can be saved? I am quite a successful businessman. Perhaps I could help you come up with a strategy to salvage your shop? Please, let me help you in your time of need._

_ShopGirl: Successful eh? You sure you aren't just showing off?_

_Doctor10: Most definitely not showing off. Well, maybe showing off a little bit. But I am_ very _successful. In fact, if I told you who I was, you would immediately recognise my name._

_ShopGirl: You think you're so impressive. LOL._

_Doctor10: I don't_ think _I'm impressive, I_ am _impressive. Back to your business problem. How badly do you want to save your business?_

_ShopGirl: IT. IS. MY. LIFE._

_Doctor10: Well all right then, you are going to have to give it all you have got. Become the big bad wolf. Huff and puff and blow the competition down._

_ShopGirl: Big bad wolf. That's more ironic than you could possibly imagine._

There was a pause in the typed conversation.

_Doctor10: Would you like to meet in person?_

Rose stared at the screen, and then typed.

_ShopGirl: Why? Why now after all this time?_

_Doctor10: I could give you better advice if I knew your particular circumstances, and discussing things face to face would be much more efficient._

_ShopGirl: Hmmm. Have to think about it._

_Doctor10: We would meet in public. You could even bring a friend if you'd like._

_ShopGirl: What if you are an axe murderer? You'd hack us_ both _to pieces._

_Doctor10: I'm not an axe murderer. I promise. And what if you are a crazy lady with 500 cats and you smell like you live in a sausage factory?_

_ShopGirl: I am a dog person, but I can't have a dog because of my current living situation. And I don't like sausage._

There was a pause.

_Doctor10: I have a dog. His name is K9. Isn't that a great name for a dog? He's really smart, too. Can do lots of tricks._

There was another pause.

_ShopGirl: Are you married?_

_Doctor10: I'm not married. I was married once long, long ago, but she died._

_ShopGirl: I’m sorry._

_Doctor10: Thank you._

_Doctor10: I recently ended things with my girlfriend because she has been having a thing with some pretty boy she met at a party a few months back._

_ShopGirl: You never mentioned you had a girlfriend._

_Doctor10: You never asked._

_ShopGirl: I told_ you _I had a boyfriend._

_Doctor10: To be accurate, you_ asked _for boyfriend advice._

_ShopGirl: Fair enough. I DID take your advice, by the way, and I dumped his sorry bum last week. Turns out HE was seeing someone for the past few months, too. Met her at a party as well. Hah! Maybe we should both stay away from parties, yeah?_

_Doctor10: But parties have the little nibbles! I love parties. Maybe we are going to the wrong parties. But I always bring a banana to a party just in case the little nibbles are rubbish._

_ShopGirl: That is odd, but strangely wise advice. LOL._

_Doctor10: So, back to my question. How about meeting for something simple like coffee or tea?_

_ShopGirl: I've never done anything like this before. What if you are disappointed in me? What if you see me and want to run away?_

_Doctor10: Why? Are you a scary alien or something? What if you are disappointed in_ me _? What if you don't fancy blokes who wear brainy specs? Although, I can't imagine that you would be disappointed as I am devastatingly handsome._

_ShopGirl: Humble too, I see. No, I'm not an alien. Just an average girl who lives in a surprisingly modest flat in Notting Hill. And I have no prejudice against brainy specs. Okay. Let's meet. I am feeling brave. How do you do that? You always make me feel braver than I am! But you had better tell me where and when right away or I will definitely lose my nerve._

_Doctor10: Brilliant! How about that little tea shop on Kensington Park Road near Elgin in Notting Hill?_

_ShopGirl: I know the place. Saturday night? 8? I'll be the one reading the book._

_Doctor10: Everyone reads books in the tea shop. Put a rose in the book._

_ShopGirl: You can't be serious. A rose? Isn't that a big cliche?_

_Doctor10: If not a rose, a daisy. Or a peony. Or a sunflower. Doesn't matter. Just something that tells me you are you._

_ShopGirl: Since sunflowers are HUGE I'll go with a rose._

_Doctor10: It's a date. I'd better end this. I have a very early morning tomorrow._ Very _big day for my business tomorrow! Wish me well._

_ShopGirl10: Good luck and Goodnight!_

_Doctor10: Goodnight ShopGirl :D_

"He smiley'd me. He's never smiley'd me!" Rose said out loud, alarmed. She closed her laptop, panicked. "What have I just done?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf, who's afraid of the big bad wolf, tra la la la la!" Sarah Jane sang with gusto. A few passersby stopped and clapped at her performance.

Today was the grand opening of the brand new Wolfe's Books London flagship store. Many "friends of the shop" had promised to come to the protest, but only a dozen had shown up, and of those, two were under the age of three and one was in a pram.

"Boycott Wolfe's!" Lynda Moss shouted meekly, in an almost friendly voice, her lips straining to not offer a smile to those who were entering the store. It was her day off from her new job at Harrod's, but she still dearly loved her former employer and the quickly sinking, Shop Around the Corner.

Rose watched with frustration as people streamed into Wolfe's in droves, either ignoring or sidestepping the non-threatening picketers with a laugh or an amused look. "Doesn't anyone care?" she asked no one in particular.

A limousine pulled up to the kerb, and John Wolfe unfolded his tall, lanky frame out the vehicle. Next, out bounded his niece, Barbara, and then his nephew, Ian. Finally, a lovely ginger-haired woman stepped out. Barbara grabbed the woman's hand as soon as she was on the pavement.

John walked up to the marching circle of picketers, pushed his hands into his brown pinstriped pockets and watched with amusement. "Look Donna, we have protestors! How exciting! I love a good protest. Reminds me of my university days. Always something to challenge back then wasn't there?" he recalled, nostalgically.

"Mummy, lookie there! It's Rose Tyler, the nice book shop lady. Why is she hollering unkind things about Uncle John?" asked Barbara, confused.

"Well, why don't I go and find out? You go inside with your brother and Uncle John. Tell him to buy you a book." Donna Temple-Noble strode confidently to the picketers.

"But Uncle John isn't going inside, Mummy, he's watching," whinged Barbara.

"Why is he smiling, Mum?" asked Ian.

"Because he likes what he sees, I think," Donna said quietly to herself, with a half smile.

"He can huff and he can puff but he can't blow my shop down. Very clever Rose Tyler," John said, reading the slogan on the sign that Rose was holding proudly above her head. "Looks like rain. Aww, that's too bad. Hope you have brollies," he taunted putting up his own automatic umbrella with the push of the button. It popped open with a satisfying thud.

"We do not need brollies," said Sarah Jane, proudly. "We will stand in the rain! We will stand in the sleet if it comes to that!"

"There are some really lovely commemorative umbrellas in the gift department. Nice big golf umbrellas, the big, sturdy type. Alternating blue and green panels. The handle is a lovely golden wolf. I tell you what. If it rains, I'll donate some to your cause."

"Free advertising for Wolfe's Books? No, ta," said Rose with a mocking smile.

"Well, you are going to get a chill if you stand out in the rain much longer. Brrr! It's chilly out here. I would hate for you to catch pneumonia. I would feel responsible! How about a nice cup of tea? Espresso? Herbal tisane? Hot cocoa? How about a macchiato? If you are lactose intolerant or vegan, I do believe we offer both soy and rice milk. Gimme a second here, and I'll take your drink orders." John produced a small notepad and an odd silver ink pen.

"You can't even write with a normal biro or a simple pencil. What kind of a pen is that?" Rose smirked.

"Oh, isn't it brilliant? It's a multi tool. And a writing implement." He waved it. "A torch." A blue light illuminated on the end. "A bottle opener." A corkscrew flipped out. "And a pen knife, uh, lock pick, what else? Oh! Noise maker." He pressed the button twice and it made a whirring sound.

"Why do you need a pen that whistles?" Rose asked.

"Because it's brilliant!" He flipped open the spiral notepad with a flourish and followed Rose as she marched in the circle, his pen poised to write. "Rose, what will you have?"

"I wouldn't drink a beverage from your establishment if I was marooned on a planet made entirely of dust, and you were holding the only cup of water." Rose tipped her nose upward.

"Oh that's brilliant! There's a Wolfe's Books on your hypothetical dust planet!" he exclaimed with exuberance.

Rose pursed her lips and glared at him, tossed her hair and continued her circular march. He stopped following her. When she came back around again, John caught her eye, winked at her and flashed her a cheeky grin.

Barbara pulled away from her mother's hand and came to her uncle's side. He looked down and saw her sad, confused face. "Why is Rose being so mean, Uncle John?" she asked.

"She's mad at me," he replied, lifting Barbara up onto his shoulders. Without another word, he walked into the store, instructing her to mind her head as they went through dark blue and white doors.

Rose frowned, mentally kicking herself, knowing that the sweet little girl had seen her unkind behaviour. She sighed as she continued to walk, though her shoulders were now slumped.

"Hello, I'm Donna Temple-Noble, John Wolfe's publicity agent. What can I do for you lovely people?" she asked loudly with a professional smile.

The picketing circle stopped, and Rose Tyler set down her sign. "I'm Rose Tyler, owner of The Shop Around the Corner." Rose extended her hand to shake, trying her best to match the businesslike demeanour of the firecracker with whom she was standing toe-to-toe.

"Nice to finally meet Rose Tyler. John is always talking about you! I can see why he--" She saw a confused look on Rose's face and stopped mid-thought. "I love your store! My mum took me there when I was little. My kids told me all about their visit around Halloween. Couldn't stop raving about the sweet lady who owned it. Ian told me that he forced my brother to ask you to lunch," she said with a laugh.

Rose sighed and smiled wanly, but then built up her courage once again. "This is the thing Mrs. Noble-Temple. When a large superstore moves into a neighbourhood that has historically been populated with mixed use residential and small businesses, the small businesses simply don't stand a fighting chance and-"

"Did someone write that for you? That's very good. You have a good publicist." Donna said, though not condescendingly. "I'm going to be brutally honest, Miss Tyler. I like you already, and the fact that you have held on to your business this long is not only admirable, but a testament to you as a person." Donna patted Rose fondly on the arm.

"There is no way my little shop can compete with your brother's megastore," she replied lamely, trying to gain the woman's sympathy once more.

"Did you know my brother commissioned a two year study before choosing to build his flagship store in this neighbourhood? He wanted to put it to be in the place that would do the most good. We were just lucky when Henrik's blew up because we weren't sure where it would work," she said. "Anyway, the small business ownership rates in this neighbourhood have been on the decline for quite a while now. How many storefronts on your street were empty this time last year? How many have changed hands more than once, even twice in the past two years? But in the past six months, ever since the announcement that we were opening, you've seen new restaurants and shops opening, haven't you?"

Rose nodded.

"Sure some are chains, but most aren't. Most are independently owned businesses, just like your charming shop. The fact that your shop sells books is honestly, rotten luck, and I'm really genuinely sorry that it is not doing well. But Wolfe's Books is not killing your neighbourhood, it is revitalising it, Miss Tyler. And he certainly did not set out to put you out of business. It's not personal, Miss Tyler."

Rose blew a puff of air out through her lips and crossed her arms. "Not personal? What -- what does that mean? Not personal. Well it's personal to me. It's personal to my employees. He's a person. I'm a person. It is personal."

"Don't you see what he's doing here? He is making it personal! This store is completely personal. It's large, yes, but it isn't inhuman. Look at all of these families going in and coming out with smiles on their faces carrying bags of books! And when they leave, they walk down the pavement, grab a bite to eat, perhaps pop into a boutique and buy a tog or two on their way home. All from shops in your neighbourhood."

Rose let go of her sign and let it fall to the ground where it landed with a small thud.

"Your shop was having difficulties before Wolfe's announced this new store, wasn't it?"

Rose nodded and finally spoke. "Yeah. Business has been bad going on sixteen months now."

"Now why don't you throw those signs in the rubbish bin, and come inside. I'll buy you a nice cup of tea, and then I'll give you a grand tour myself. I bet you're dying to see the children's department aren't you?"

Rose stared up at the grey sky, trying hard not to let tears start.

"And I promise Rose, I'll keep you as far away from my brother as possible. He can be rude, can't he?" said Donna with a snort, but then her voice softened as she touched Rose's arm. "But once you get to know him, he's got a heart of gold."

Rose's eyes snapped onto Donna's, and there was a moment of understanding between the two of them.

"Thanks, but I think I'm gonna head home. Maybe the others would like to go on in, but I don't know that I could handle seeing all of your success right now. I'd just get jealous," she said, rolling her eyes at herself. "Thanks for stopping to talk to me, and not making me feel like someone small and unimportant."

Donna squeezed Rose's arm one more time, and offered her a kind smile, and then disappeared through the massive blue and white glass-paneled doors. Rose cancelled the protest, and the rag tag group of boycotters disbanded.

oOo

"This is the place, Cafe Cosmos," John said nervously.

John pulled on his friend's shirt sleeve, halting him just shy of the appointed meeting place. "Why am I doing this? Tell me again, why did I agree to meet this person?" John asked his best friend Jack.

"You're just taking it to the next level Doc. You meet someone you like, you take it up a notch, and then another and another until it is absolutely positively imperative that you run away as fast as you can." Jack grinned brightly.

"Yeah, and you reach the top floor in the space of an hour. I'm not as flexible as you are, Jack."

Jack laughed and slapped John on the back. "So she said she'd be sitting at a table with a flower in a book?"

"Yep, a rose."

"Aww, Doc, seriously? A rose? Could that be more cliche? I bet she's one of those far too sentimental, old fashioned people who never come out of their house except to go to the library. I bet she's a real weirdo."

"You're telling she's ugly, aren't you?" John asked with a smirk.

"Yessiree," Jack said with a flourish.

"I don't care. If she's even half as pretty as that new Face of Boe sculpture down the National Museum, I'd be insane not to drop down on one knee and ask her to marry me tonight. She is perfect."

"Well there you go, and I'm happy for you, Doc. Now go in there already!"

"Would look for me?" begged John.

"What are you, five?" Jack protested. "John Wolfe, you are the de facto Lord of Books, and you are scared to look at a woman through a window?"

"Just do it already!" hissed John as he paced on the pavement one shop front over from the cafe.

Jack just shook his head and ambled slowly by the window. He stopped and pretended to be reading the posted menu, and then he scanned the patrons.

"I see a very pretty girl. Wait, nope. No book. Oh, there's someone with a book, and she has a pink rose."

"Well? What does she look like?" John was nearly bouncing with anticipation.

"Dunno, waiter's in the way. Oh wait, he's moved. Oh. Wow." Jack turned and smiled at John.

"Well?" John asked anxiously.

"Oh, she's pretty all right. Gorgeous more like it. She's also quite a bit younger than I would have guessed for a business owner. Can't be more than twenty or twenty-one."

"Wow. Age gap. Didn't think of that. Seems so much older than that in her emails. What colour is her hair? What does she look like?" John asked, craning his neck, attempting to look through the cafe window.

"Blonde, obviously bleached, but it suits her. Really pretty brown eyes. Full, kissable pink lips. Petite but very well proportioned." He winked. "Appears to be on the shorter side, well, shorter than you." He laughed nervously. "Funny thing is, ah--" Jack laughed nervously. "You know who she looks like?" Jack asked with a somewhat pained grin.

"Who?" asked John, leaning forward with anticipation.

"Rose Tyler."

"Oh," John tugged his ear. "Well, very pretty then."

"Yeah. In fact, if you don't like Rose Tyler, you won't like this girl." Jack's smile now looked like it might break his face.

"Really?" smirked John.

"Yeah. 'Cos Doc, it is Rose Tyler."

"What? What! WHAT!" John stood stony still and turned to leave.

Jack grabbed his arm and halted him "Doc, you're gonna leave her there waiting? You can't do that. That's just rude."

"That's me. Rude and not ginger."

"John!" Jack threatened.

John growled. "Oh, all right!"

"Don't be rude!" Jack pointed at him, as he called.

Rose saw John enter the cafe out of the corner of her eye. Immediately, she slunk down in her seat with a pained look on her face. She shielded her eyes with her hand, pretending that she was engrossed in her book. But it was too late. He'd seen her and was coming her way. Rose cringed, but then straightened her back and closed her book.

"Hello Rose Tyler, fancy seeing you here on a Saturday night. May I join you?" John sat down without waiting for her answer. He crossed his arms and leaned in the table, staring her down with an enigmatic grin.

"I'm sorry, but that seat is taken. I'm meeting someone. I need you to go," she said calmly, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh! You're reading _Pride and Prejudice_! I _love Pride and Prejudice!_ Well, really I don't, but isn't everyone supposed to say they love P&P? Now _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies,_ that -- that was a page turner!" He tapped Rose's book and nodded decisively.

"Seriously? Zombies?" She shook her head and glared at him in judgment.

"I bet you read _Pride & Prejudice_ every year. You just love Mr. Darcy don't you? Does he make you swoon?" John waggled his eyebrows flirtatiously. "Come to think of it, you and I are a rather like Lizzie Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy, aren't we. Fitzzzwillliam." He rolled the name around his mouth and squinted as he thought about how it felt. "Don't think I'll ever name a son Fitzwilliam"

"Please, I really do need you to go. He'll be here any minute and I don't want him to think I'm with someone else." Rose almost whispered.

"He? Oh well now, this is interesting. You're meeting a he! You must have finally kicked that no-good Jimmy Stone to the kerb, then! Cheers!" John nodded.

Rose ignored his comments and craned her neck when a handsome man opened the door, but then her face fell when it turned out he was with the pretty woman for whom he was holding the door open.

"So who is this man you are meeting, hmm? Someone you met at a book club? You aren't in one of those _Fifty Shades of Grey_ book clubs are you?" he said with a suggestive grin.

"No, I am not," she blushed. "But I did meet him in book club, if you must know." She didn't say it was an online book club of course. "We were reading _The Time Machine."_

"H. G. Wells. Interesting fellow. Good choice. So he's a bookish sort of fellow. A librarian perhaps? Professor of English Literature?" he pried, leaning even further forward with anticipation.

"No, he's a successful businessman," she said proudly, fiddling with the rose that had fallen out of her book.

"Oh would you look at that. A rose for a Rose. 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'"

"Think I haven't heard that one before? I promise, I'm not Juliet and you are not my Romeo."

"Me thinks there's a story behind this rose. Don't see that everyday, a pretty girl with a book at a cafe alone on a Saturday night. With a rose." John picked up the flower and smelled it. "Ahh. I've got it." He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "It's a signal isn't it? 'I'll be the girl with the pink rose in her book' you told him, because this is a blind date, isn't it? You don't know who he is!"

John crossed his arms, surveying Rose's face as she remained silent for a moment.

"Skillful deducing, Lewis," she finally said, snidely.

John smirked momentarily. "Could be him." He pointed to a young man with a bar through his nose and jet black hair. "Or him. He turned around and motioned his head to a man with a waxed goatee sporting a black cape lined with red satin.

"No, it isn't the goth boy or that bloke in the cape. My friend said he'd be here at eight and it's only five minutes 'til. He isn't even here yet."

"How do you know he isn't already here? If I were meeting someone on a blind date I would definitely come early to conduct a scouting mission," he said with a nod and a sniff.

"Just like you scouted out my humble, helpless little book shop before you swooped in and crushed me like a bug?" Her voice was biting and caustic. Rose drew in a breath, sat up straight and her eyes began to flash with golden fire. "You Mr. Wolfe are nothing but a soulless, blood sucking vampire in a brown pinstriped suit!" 

But as soon as the words came out of her mouth, she gasped. "For the first time in my life, I'm faced with someone who has challenged me and I knew exactly what to say and I said it. Now please Mr. Wolfe, please go. I really want to meet this person." She closed her eyes for a moment. "He has been the one bright spot in my life for the past six months and you, more than anyone, know how totally rubbish things are for me." Rose's eyes were shining as tears threatened to start any moment.

John ceased his teasing. "I do believe that is my cue to go." He left quietly, his hands in his pockets.

Rose waited in vain for another half an hour before she gave up and left. She took a taxi home and composed an email.

_Dear Doctor10,_

_I don't know why you didn't come tonight. I don't know that I have ever been so disappointed in my entire life. But knowing you, I am sure you had a very good reason. The thing is, I went there expecting to finally meet you. My friend. And ended up running into someone who is probably more unlike you than anyone in the entire universe. He is someone whom I have fantasized about slapping and I finally had the chance to say what I really wanted to say. And I did. And you know what? I feel awful about it. Awful. I hope everything is all right with you. Please let me know that you are okay._

_Your friend, ShopGirl._

Rose hit send, and went to bed.

oOo

Rose opened her email the next day and Doctor10 had replied. It was time stamped just after one am on Sunday morning. What she didn't know is that it had taken him an hour to compose the message, carefully being truthful without disclosing the full truth.

_Dear ShopGirl,_

_I’m sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I feel terrible. I mean really, really terrible. Awful in fact. But I'm sure you feel worse. I don't have any excuse really, other than cowardice. That's me. A coward every time. I should have been there for you in your time of need, and I wasn't._

_Your Doctor10._

oOo

Their correspondence did continue, and although Doctor10 never did ask Rose to meet in person again, their communications did become more transparent and personal, though they continued to keep their anonymity.

_Doctor10_

_Well it's finally come down to it. Tomorrow is doomsday. My shop is closing. I sold children's books. It was a sweet little shop. My bookkeeper is retiring, my window dresser got a job at Harrod's, and my all around great guy who did everything else got some super secret government job that he can't tell anyone about. He gets to wear cool commando gear and drive around town in a black, flash SUV._

_When I wake up tomorrow morning, I'm not sure what I will do with myself. I have enough savings to keep me afloat for awhile, but at some point I will have to have a plan. Maybe I'll finally get my A levels and go on to university. Maybe I'll study English Lit and become a teacher. Wish me luck tomorrow." Rose hesitated for a minute and then continued to type. "If you ever want to practice being brave, maybe we could try meeting again?_

_ShopGirl_

oOo

There was a box of Kleenex on the counter for the patrons who were weepy. Rose had shed her last tear before she came into the shop. Many loyal customers shared their happy childhood memories with Rose and Sarah Jane. Mickey popped in to say goodbye (wearing his black commando gear), and Lynda brought Rose a gift card from Harrod's.

"Rose, I need to tell you something. I accepted a job with Wolfe's."

"Oh," said Rose, quietly, ringing up a stack of 75% off books for a customer.

"I hope you're not too horribly mad," Lynda said nervously.

"I'm not mad, Lynda," she said genuinely. "I'm happy for you. So tell me about your job."

"Well, Mr. Wolfe's sister Donna Noble-Temple came by my job last week and offered me the position. She said that I was the best window dresser in all of London, and they wanted me to be in charge of the windows of their flagship store, help dress up children's books. Funny thing, everyone I work with thinks I have a PhD in children's literature. But I suppose compared to them, well." 

Rose laughed at that. "Compared to them, I'm sure you do. Wow! Those windows are huge! Think of the stuff you'll be able to do with them! I'll have to stop by and see your works of art." Rose said, handing change to the woman with a smile and a thank you.

"Rose, Wolfe's is a wonderful company. I mean a really wonderful place. The people I work with are super nice and the store is flat out gorgeous. John Wolfe has even personally asked me about my plans for the windows. He asked about you, too."

"About me? Why would he ask about me?" Rose said with a confused scowl.

"Dunno," Lynda replied with a shrug. "I really do hope you'll come by and see my windows. I sort of, well, paid an homage to you and The Shop this week. Will you? Will you come by tomorrow? Pretty please with sugar and candy floss and rainbow sprinkles on top?" she begged.

"Okay, I'll stop by. Not like I have anything else to do," Rose said, a bit glumly.

"Great! I have a break at 2:00. Meet me at the cafe under the spiral staircases, 'kay?"

By the end of the day, every last book, toy and bauble had been sold. Rose stood alone the empty shop. She flipped the light switch for the last time, removed the old fashioned bell that hung over the top of the door, locked up and walked away. The bell rang quietly as she walked to her bus.

oOo

Rose slipped on her prettiest casual spring dress, put her hair up in a flirty ponytail, and then applied her makeup carefully. She assumed that many of the employees of Wolfe's Books might recognise her, given the fact that she had been marching in front of their store on opening day, and she didn't want to give them any reason to pity her.

She had never stepped inside of a Wolfe's Books before today. In her mind, she had pictured a lifeless grey warehouse filled with metal shelving and glaring fluorescent lights hanging from the bare ceiling. What she saw as she entered the store was the very last thing she expected. Lynda had told her that the store was gorgeous, but the reality? It was breathtaking.

Upon pushing the deep blue wood and glass doors, Rose found herself standing inside of a massive atrium. She looked up and saw a glass ceiling three stories overhead. The main floor housed periodicals to the left, gifts for the reader to the right, and general interest books to the rear. Straight ahead, in the middle of the store, were a series of massive spiral staircases twisting to the floors above. Nestled under the staircases was the welcoming cafe.

The immediately recognisable wolf logo was tastefully embossed in gold, carved or in relief here and there. Most surprising of all was the lack of flat surfaces. The walls were curved, and had an almost organic texture. As she walked by a wall, she reached out and dragged her fingertips along one of the surfaces. It was slightly rough, but didn't scrape her hand. Green hand-blown glass light fixtures hung from the ceiling, casting a warm light downward that was perfect for reading. The green glass cast a mysterious and atmospheric glow outward that danced on the walls.

Everywhere she looked, people were seated on comfortable chairs, sofas, and even bean bags. They were reading or quietly chatting in groups. Sales staff were not harassing them, but were readily available.

Straight ahead was the cafe where she was to meet Lynda. She didn't see her friend, but she did see Donna Noble-Temple holding a fine china demitasse cup. Across from her sat her half-brother. He held the cup portion of a blue mug with the Wolfe logo in gold leaf.

Rose slowly approached the pair, knowing it would be rude to ignore them. But that didn't mean she wasn't nervous.

"Rose Tyler? W-welcome to Wolfe's Books. Welcome to my shop," John said standing up, almost shyly.

"It's beautiful, really beautiful," she said in awe as she looked around.

"This bloke here designed it himself, but he won't tell you that," Donna said with a snort, nodding her head towards her half brother.

"Well it's not like I was the architect or anything, but it did sort of spring from my imagination," he admitted. "Have you been up to children's yet?" he asked with hope in his eyes.

"No. Not yet. I'm here to meet a friend for coffee. One of your employees in fact. Well, one who used to be mine but is now one of yours."

"Oh! I know who you are talking about. Lynda with a Y! Fantastic girl. I just had to have her do our window displays," John said proudly. "Your windows were the best you know, and I only take the best."

"I thought you said they were overdone, Willy Wonka, and gingerbread?" asked Rose, with a half smile.

"Well, I was," John tugged on his ear, "not thinking clearly that day. Anyway, I hope you enjoy browsing the place. I'm quite proud of it, actually, and I hope you like it too."

"There's Lynda now. I guess I'd better go." Rose was feeling an odd, warmish sort of feeling that she certainly didn't expect to feel as John looked at her. She was suddenly rather disappointed that Lynda had shown up after all. She finally broke her eyes from his with a nervous laugh and left the table to meet Lynda.

Donna made a face at her brother, the type of face that spoke volumes.

"No, just no. Stop doing that -- thing you do, that face thing," John said, pointing a finger.

"I'm not doing anything," she said with a mischievous smile. "But now that you mention it, for a moment there, I sort of felt like the two of you forgot I was even here."

"Donna!" growled John. "She's..."

"She's what? Charming, smart, lovely and funny?" Donna took a sip of her espresso.

"She's---" John sighed and fell back against his chair, raking his hand through his hair in frustration. "Donna, it's complicated. Very complicated."

"Reinette was complicated. That Cheem woman, now she was complicated. But Rose Tyler is as uncomplicated as they come."

John made a rather juvenile face at his sister, who laughed at him.

"I need to go," Donna stood up, and kissed her brother's cheek. "You're the one who's making things complicated, you skinny boy in a suit." She slapped his cheek playfully a few times before she picked up her personal china espresso cup.

John stood up and binned the remains of their afternoon coffee break, and then went upstairs to his office on the third floor.

oOo

Rose made her way up the spiral staircase to the second floor. Lynda had been called into a marketing meeting for her design expertise so she had to say goodbye to Rose, leaving her free to explore the vast store on her own. She had already been to classics, geography, fantasy and sci-fi, and biographies. She new she couldn't put it off any longer. It was time to go to children's.

Following a colour coded trail of tiles on the intricately designed mosaic floor, she was led to her destination. She gasped. In front of her was a child-scaled, somewhat three-dimensional painted version of a 1950's London high street complete with false shop fronts, two sofas for reading which resembled vintage automobiles, and a water fountain for thirsty little throats. In the middle of the block was one of those anachronistic blue police public call boxes that used to be seen all over the country, but were now all but extinct.

"Go on, open the door."

Rose turned her head to see John standing behind her.

"Just pull the door open?" she asked.

"Yep."

Rose pulled the handle, and a door much larger than the faux door that was painted on the wall opened, amply able to accommodate adults. She found herself in a children's wonderland of books.

"This is my favourite place in the whole store." John leaned over her shoulder and whispered into her ear.

"This is just -- amazing! It's incredible! Look at the ceiling!" Rose jumped up and down in amazement. The ceiling was painted midnight blue. Projections of stars, planets, celestial bodies, and the occasional space ship swirled and moved, constantly changing. Down at eye level, thanks to futuristic-looking dropped track lighting, the room was bright and perfect for reading.

Rose walked through the department like she was in a museum filled with the most precious works of art. She didn't say a word. John simply leaned up against painting of a Hobbit house on the wall and watched her. She picked up a copy of _Wind in the Willows_ and rubbed her hand over the embossed cover with a smile.

Of course there was a very large area dedicated to Harry Potter. 

"Lynda designed this area. Installation was finished just a couple of days ago. Isn't it brilliant? Look up. There's the snitch!" John said with glee pointing to a golden snitch, wings aflutter, bobbing and flitting by some miracle of modern magic.

"That's amazing!" Rose said with a giggle, putting her balled-up fists to her face, feeling a little bit like a giddy twelve year old.

"Excuse me, excuse me please, but I'm trying to find those shoes books?" A harried mother was keeping an eye on her daughter who had lost herself in the fairies and magical creatures section.

"Uh, do you know the author?" asked the slack-jawed young sales clerk.

"I don't know anything more. It's a series about shoes."

"Noel Streatfield. That's S-T-R-E-A-T field. Written in the 1930's. _Ballet Shoes, Skating Shoes, Theatre Shoes, Circus Shoes._ I'd start her on _Ballet Shoes_. It's my favourite, but _Skating Shoes_ is brilliant too, but it's out of print. You could always try online for a used copy."

"Thank you miss," said the grateful woman, and she followed the young man to the computer so he could locate where the book would be located in the vast department.

Rose decided it was time to leave. She had seen enough. Wolfe's Books was not some evil monster of a store, it was a lovely, wonderful place, and she wasn't sure what to think now that she couldn't hate it anymore. Further she wasn't sure what she should think about John Wolfe, now that she didn't hate him anymore, either.

"I'll see you out," said John kindly.

"Thanks, but I think I need to be alone now, Mr. Wolfe," she said soberly.

"Please. Call me John?" he asked earnestly.

"Sure. John."

John walked her out of the children's department, and directed her to the lift instead of the stairwell. He ushered her in and then stopped it between floors. "I need to apologise to you, Rose. I have treated you badly. I have been rude and thoughtless and I'm sorry."

Rose stared at him for a moment and then swallowed hard. "Thank you John, I appreciate that very much. And, I suppose, well, I'm sorry I picketed your store and tried to mount a boycott. I'm obviously not good at rallying protestors," she smiled slightly and looked down. "I'm more sorry for how I treated you at Cafe Cosmos."

"Did I ruin your blind date?" he asked, trying very hard to keep a straight face.

"No, you didn't ruin it. I was stood up," she sighed. "He emailed me afterward. He got cold feet."

"Well I know one thing. You never should have worried that he showed up, saw you, and thought you were ugly or something, because you're not. Ugly that is. You're very not ugly, in fact." He cleared his throat nervously.

"Thanks, I think," she blushed and smiled, looking down.

John pressed the button to resume lift service. The doors opened, and Rose walked out. John stayed inside, pressed the button for the level where the business offices were, and shoved his hands into his pockets, grinning madly.

oOo

As was her habit, the last thing Rose did before bed was check her e-mail one last time. There he was, just as she had hoped.

_Hello ShopGirl,_

_I thought of you today. So how was the first day of the rest of your life? Did you sleep in? Did you lounge around in your jim jams? Did you watch too much telly and eat cereal for lunch? Whatever you did, I hope you are feeling better today than yesterday._

_Doctor10._

Rose read and re-read the email, and then hit reply.

oOo

John opened his email, ignored all except the message from his ShopGirl.

_Hello Doctor10._

_I’m not quite sure how to describe today. On one hand, I felt rather sad for much of the day, but then, well, something happened. Something quite brilliant. For one thing, I stopped hating someone that I have held a grudge against for months now. Well, I can't really say 'hate' because I am not the sort of person who hates. Strongly dislike is a more like it. I think I was rather jealous of his person's success, if I am completely honest. I realised that this person is not responsible for the loss of my business after all. I visited his retail establishment hoping to despise it, and ended up falling in love. It is stunningly beautiful and just about perfect. I left the place in awe of him. Problem is, now that I don't have this person to despise anymore, what am I going to do with all of that energy that I had invested in being angry? When dislike turns into like, what do you do?_

_ShopGirl._

John read the email and printed it off. He took it with him to bed and read it three times before turning out the light.


	3. Chapter 3

John Wolfe stood at Rose Tyler's door holding a bouquet of daisies. He knocked, heard shuffling, and then a sneeze. The security chain rattled, and finally he heard the snick of the lock.

"Johb Bolfe? Whab are you doobing here?" Rose's nose was red, her eyes were bloodshot, and her face, blotchy. Her hair was a mess and she was wearing an old blue and red striped man's dressing gown over flannel pyjamas dotted with moons and stars.

"I heard you were sick. I brought you flowers!" he chirped, pushing his way into her flat without asking.

Rose quickly turned away and sneezed in the other direction. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her nose. "I'b pretty sure I'b comtagious. You dob't wanna get sick." Her head was a little bit fuzzy from the cold medication, otherwise she probably wouldn't have let him in her flat in the first place.

He looked around, admiring the compact and comfortable home that Rose had made for herself. He could tell that the well-worn furniture was from her parents' era, though there were a few of her own touches here and there. His eyes were caught by a pair of hot pink, fuzzy throw pillows on the sofa.

"Where's a vase?" John asked.

"On tob of the fridge," she said. But then she dropped onto the sofa, overcome with a coughing fit.

"I should make you some tea." John tipped his head as he watched her misery before he walked into the kitchen and started poking through the cabinets without regard for privacy. He quickly found teabags and two mugs. He switched on the electric kettle. While the water was coming to a boil, he shoved the daisies into a green milk glass vase and carried the cheery offering into Rose's bedroom.

Rose just sat on the sofa and dumbly watched the man as he walked through her flat like he owned the place.

"Very nice home. I like it." He heard the kettle switch off, so he prepared the tea. "Sugar? Milk?"

"One sugar, no bilk," she said.

John handed her a mug and sat down in a chair next to the sofa.

"How'b you know I was sick?" she asked, sipping her tea.

"Lynda told me. Stress, Rose. Stress does terrible things to your immune system. You shouldn't worry so much. Do you have any strawberries, bananas and oranges about? Yogurt? Honey? I could make you a smoothie full of vitamins and antioxidants."

"Smoothie. Huh. Flowers... Lynda." She looked a bit loopy. "Why'd you come by again?" she asked, confused.

"Because I want to be your friend. Now come on, let's get you into bed." He looped his arm through hers and led her into the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and sat her down. She slipped under the duvet.

"Feel better, Rose Tyler," he said fondly.

"Thanbs for stobbing by." Rose's eyes were already closed, head turned to the side, and she was nearly asleep.

John let himself out, making sure her door was secure.

oOo

_Dear Doctor10,_

_I am sorry I didn't email you last night. I've been sick. I took some new cold medicine that the chemist recommended. I will never ever touch it again. My head felt like it was a balloon on a string bouncing around in the breeze. Oh, how I hate that feeling. I had an unexpected visitor yesterday afternoon. Sometimes a visit from a friend when you're sick is exactly what you need to get over the worst of it. I don't remember much of our visit, and for a while I thought it was a dream, but I know he was here because there is a cheerful vase of daisies sitting on my bedside table, just where I can see them. I've come to a decision. I'm going to go back to school. I want to learn everything there is to know about this here universe of ours. What could be more exciting that learning new things? What do you think?_

_ShopGirl”_

The reply came sooner than Rose expected.

_Dear ShopGirl,_

_Good decision to go back to school. But what's the rush coming to a decision? Take your time! You've been on the treadmill for a while now, right? You need to rest. You're probably sick from the stress of worry. I think you need to take some time for yourself. Do you like to travel? I love traveling. Sometimes I feel like I was meant to fly, not walk. I don't like to travel alone, though. Maybe we could travel together? It's so much better with two. I've always wanted to go to Barcelona. I like the way the word feels in my mouth. Say it with me. Bar-seh-looooohnuh._

_Doctor10_

oOo

Rose sat at a table near the window at the Starbucks nearest her flat. She didn't drink coffee often, but she was very sleepy this morning. She had tossed and turned the night before, worrying about her future. 

She pulled her tattered copy of _Rebecca_ out of her rucksack and immersed herself in caffeine, mass-made flaky and buttery croissant goodness, and the mystery within the walls of Manderlay. A rap on the window jolted her from the pages of her book, and she saw a smiling and madly waving John Wolfe looking at her through the glass. 

He scurried inside and sat in the lounge chair next to her. "Good morning Rose Tyler! Fancy bumping into you. Never figured you for a coffee achiever."

"'M not actually," she said, stifling a yawn. "But three shots of espresso pack the caffeine punch that I needed to get myself going this morning."

"Why so tired?" he asked. He was genuinely concerned.

"I can't sleep. I lay awake every night worrying. Should I keep or sell the flat? Find an entry level, low paying job? I thought I had convinced myself to go back go school, but the thought of being tied down for the next five to ten years just frightens me. And then I start to wonder if I always will be alone." She stopped herself, not intending to voice that particular concern. 

"Well anyway," she said, smiling nervously. Her cheeks now glowed pink with self-awareness. Rose looked up at the ceiling and fiddling with her hair. "I am giving myself one more week off to think about these things and then I'm gonna have to make some decisions. My friend thinks that I am rushing things, that I should take even more time. He suggested traveling, which is easy for him to say. He's probably really rich or something, and I don't know if he realises that time and money are luxuries that I don't particularly have by the bucketful."

"Is that the friend who you were going to meet when I so rudely interrupted your evening?" asked John slyly.

"Yes," she replied slowly.

"So which bloke was he? Cape Man or Goth Boy?" His eyes sparkled as he lied through his teeth.

She laughed good-naturedly. "I told you already, he stood me up. Stop teasing me about it!" 

"I'm sure he had a good reason.” John shrugged it off.

Rose just smiled, but didn't answer.

He stood up, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet. ”Let’s go see what's going on down at Portobello Market. I'm in the mood to dig through old stuff." John pushed a hand into his pinstriped trouser pocket, and shoved his glasses up his nose.

"I never would've figured you for the type of bloke who'd like rummaging through old stuff," she said with a laugh. Rose binned the remains of her coffee and treat. Her book had long been put away in lieu of conversation.

"Hey! I'm old. Nothing wrong with old," he said with mock affront. "I’m _ancient_ , compared to you, though,” he said. Slowly raising one eyebrow, he leaned in. ”Do _you_ like rummaging through old stuff?" he waggled his eyebrows. 

She snorted a laugh and bumped his shoulder with her own.

They ambled through the eclectic Portobello market for the afternoon. John bought a bunch of exotic purple bananas, and Rose, a bouquet of daisies.

"You don't like roses, do you?" asked John as they stood at the flower stand.

"It's not that I don't like them, it's more that everyone _expects_ me to like them. Just because my Mum and Dad decided to call me Rose,” she said, knowingly. "Now daisies, look at these. They're simple and sweet and friendly. Daisies are my favourite flowers."

"Glad I didn't bring you roses when you were sick. Knew daisies were the right choice," he said. "Um, Rose,” John began. He tugged on his ear. “Would you mind if I bumped into you again sometime? Specifically tomorrow?"

"Well, okay. Yeah. Okay," she smiled and bumped his shoulder again, and wordlessly, he slipped his hand into hers.

Holding hands felt completely right.

oOo

More excursions happened after that. John and Rose toured museums, explored big old libraries, ambled through parks, and shared dodgy street food from dodgy vendors.

Rose went back to school. She wasn't the oldest, nor was she the youngest in any of her classes. She sought John's help when math and science was a challenge, but she breezed through literature, and maybe even taught him a thing or two.

Spring turned into summer, and summer into fall, and John Wolfe and Rose Tyler were nearly inseparable. An easy friendship had blossomed naturally.

Just as natural and easy as her _friendship_ with Doctor10. 

Not that Rose didn't think about more than friendship almost every minute of every day. But with whom? Doctor10? _or John Wolfe?_

oOo

_Dear ShopGirl,_

_Are you still interested in meeting? There's a project I'm working on this week that needs some jiggery-pokery, so I can't meet in the few days, but how about meeting this Saturday at 4? Kensington Gardens, the Peter Pan statue. I'll bring K9._

_Doctor10_

oOo

John and Rose sat on a bench sharing a large paper cone of chips.

"He said he had a project that needed some jiggery-pokery," Rose told John. 

"Jiggery-pokery? What does jiggery-pokery even mean? Who even says that?” John squealed.

“ _You_ say that,” Rose said, poking him in the chest. “First time we met, when I asked you what you did, you told me you sold _things_ and did _jiggery-pokery._ ”

John flushed. “Well it sounds to me like he's married, and he has to dump his wife."

"He is not married, and that was a terrible thing to say!" Rose said with her mouth full.

"How do you know?" John asked, pretending to be dubious.

"Because I asked him that question a long time ago. He had a girlfriend that he broke up with around the same time I dumped Jimmy." She stopped and looked down. "He also said he was not married now, but he had been married, and his wife had died years ago. That made me sad."

"Years ago? Those exact words?"

"Yeah. Years ago. What does that mean? Is five enough years to mean years ago?" Rose asked, suddenly concerned.

"No way. Years ago most definitely means decades. Multiple." He knew he probably shouldn't be using this tragic part of his life humorously, but he couldn't help it. It was too much fun to tease Rose.

"Multiple decades," she said breathily, looking straight ahead. "That's one hell of an age gap."

"You know, you've never told me how you met this so-called friend who stood you up?" asked John, changing the subject.

"Online." Rose nearly whispered her answer after waiting almost half a minute.

"Did you say online?" John asked with a look of surprise.

"Yes! All right! I met him online!" she admitted loudly. "I'm a member of an online book club message board. We were discussing Wells's _The Time Machine_ and you know how those threads get off topic, and well, we sort of hit it off," she explained like it was the most natural thing in the world. She dug into the cone and pulled out a fat piece of potato.

"What's his username?" John asked casually.

"Doctor10. And don't go Googling "Time Machine book club" to try and get his email address."

"Doctor10. Doctor10. Wonder what that means. Usernames are very personal. Very important, you know. What's yours?"

"ShopGirl."

"Perfect. To the point. Describes you concisely and accurately," he said, popping a chip into his mouth. "But Doctor10, that's kind of a mystery. You say he's a businessman. So why Doctor?" he asked with a frown. "Ten years of hard labour for falsely claiming to be a physician?"

"No," Rose replied. "Ten degrees, including a PhD, hence, doctor."

"Ten velour tracksuits and ten matching gold chains."

"Ten completed marathons," she countered.

"Ten laser treatments to remove the hair on his back, and now he feels indebted to his doctor." John reached into the cone and pulled out the last chip. He split it, and fed Rose one half. "Ten toupees. Ten days in Cardiff every summer. Ten—"

Rose roughly cupped her hand over his mouth to stop his gibbering. "Ten thousand insights into my heart!"

John gently removed her hand and held onto it. "Well now. Can't compete with that. That seals it. We'll never be together." He said melodramatically, and then became serious. "You know, sometimes I wonder, if you hadn't have been Shop Around the Corner, and I wasn't Wolfe's Books, and you and I had just met, like two normal people, I would've said, _how about some tea or chips for... as long as we both shall live?_ " He swallowed hard and searched her eyes for a sign of hope.

"John." Rose shook her head, trying to stop him from continuing.

"And we would never have been at war, and the only thing we would have ever fought about was which movie to stream on Saturday night."

"We wouldn't have even fought about that," Rose replied breathlessly, shaking her head.

"No, you're right. Not us," he agreed. "If only."

"I gotta go," Rose said nervously.

"Rose, how can you forgive this bloke for standing you up, but you can't forgive me for this tiny little thing like opening a bookshop in your neighborhood? I wish you would. "

"I really have to go." Rose walked away, but not without turning around twice to look back at John's sad eyes as he watched her walk away.

oOo

Rose stood nervously by the statue of Peter Pan, fiddling with her fuzzy blue cardigan. She looked to the left and then to the right, scanning the pathway for any sign of the man she knew to be her soulmate.

And then she saw a perfectly trimmed Scottish Terrier running away from his master, his blue leash trailing behind, and she heard a voice, a familiar, wonderful voice calling after the dog. "K9! Stop running away from me!"

And there he was running after the fleeing dog. She put her hands to her mouth and then covered her eyes, and then her hands fell away. She was surprised, confused, joyful and even a little bit annoyed. How could he lie to her about this? All of that wasted time! But then she knew none of that was important. Everything else was eclipsed as love shined in her eyes. She let her feet fly to him, stopping just short of his reach.

"I wanted him to be you. I so wanted him to be you." She was crying now. She reached out her hand, as if to test if he were real, and not just an image.

"Don't cry ShopGirl, don't cry."

"My Doctor," she said under her breath.

"The universe won't collapse if you touch me," John replied, his voice strong enough for the two of them.

Hesitantly, she laid her hand on his chest. She felt the steady, strong thump-thump of his single heart beating only for her.

"I only have one life, Rose Tyler. I could spent it with you, if you want." He put his hand on her arm, and placed his mouth next to her ear, so that only she would hear his words. "I love you, ShopGirl."

Rose grabbed the lapels of his ever present pinstriped jacket, pulled her to him, and they kissed. And it was perfect. And they lived happily ever after.

The End


End file.
